Monthly Archives: March 2012

Spring 2012

Posted by strangersandpoetry on

There was a sense

That spring was really trying,

The storms had a bigger

Space between them,

The sun hit the outside

Tables three mornings

In a row and more

Smiles broke on

More faces more often,

Brian was leaving for

The Gwaii for the spring

And coming summer,

Terri and Kerrie were

Dipping their toes

In new life streams,

Maili said she was

Going to write every day,

And the clock in the corner

Was grinning at me

As if it knew

How many springs

Were left on the

Time cards.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Another Revolution” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com

5:42 PM March 30, 2012

Gun Shy

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And he said …

I’d be lying if I said

I didn’t find it cozy

In your inbox,

Knowing all the love

You have to give.

And she said …

I’m looking for

Someone to love

Me wholly,

Unabashedly,

Completely

Without fear.

And he said …

That’s the only way

To love a Goddess

Baby.

It’s the only way

To call your lover

Dear.

And she said …

I want someone

To love with

No reservations,

Deliberately,

Consistent gusto

Through the years.

And they said …

It seems the music’s

Getting stronger

Let’s dance along

A little longer

Over gun shy

Past our tears.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Another Revolution”  www.StrangersAndPoetry.com/GunShy.html

10:17 AM March 29, 2012

I Don’t Speak Mexican

Posted by strangersandpoetry on

You loved her but you didn’t,

You’ve been reading Neruda?

Who in the hell’s Neruda?

Just some guy.

So you loved this woman

But you never got it on?

Sort of.

What do you mean sort of?

This may sound crazy,

I’ve never met her,

Just some notes and emails.

 It’s not crazy man,

You’ve met her,

In another time

Another sphere

It’s just not clear

To an earthly mind,

But you’ve met her.

Who is this guy Neruda?

A writer who lived in Chile.

Why in hell would I read

Some guy from Chile,

I don’t speak Mexican!

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Another Revolution” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com

2:25 PM March 28, 2012

Gonzo

Posted by strangersandpoetry on

The collective psyche

Appeared to be a combination

Of not knowing, being unaware,

Not caring, fantasy, fiction,

To actuality somewhere

In the middle of the

Crazy combobulation ,

On March twenty-seventh

Who really knew how

Two-thousand and twelve

Would shake out,

Rumors flowing here and there

Wingnuts chanting on the stairs

Monks and Nuns igniting bonzo

Seems the world has all gone gonzo.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Another Revolution” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com

1:40 PM March 27, 2012

Hints

Posted by strangersandpoetry on

The hints,

The messages

About The Cabal,

The Jesuits, The Illuminati,

The mass arrests,

The new system,

Kept coming,

Then her one line with

“Genius Of The Crowd”

Attached as a link

Arrived,

Took his mind away

As her short notes always did,

Like sliding her hand down the

Front of his trousers,

Oh the mind of a poet,

The hand of a Goddess.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Another Revolution” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com/Hints.html

6:41 PM March 26, 201

The Arts

Posted by strangersandpoetry on

There’s a hollow phoniness

Perceived or otherwise

That clings to the air

Around big ticket

Staged events,

Call it a Bukowski

Mood or what you will

But some of the stuff we

Get excited about is simply shit

That must come out,

If not the mental constipation

Leads to physical pain quite similar

To that of a longing to see

Your Meeleirrek naked.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Another Revolution” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com

12:46 PM March 26, 2012

Freeman And Hill

Posted by strangersandpoetry on

Another evening

With Freeman and Hill,

The coffee shop

Packed to the corners

It’s like visiting

The sixties,

Ian and Sylvia,

Scott Mckenzie,

You know,

The music you seem

To become part of

On the worn sill

Of forgotten time,

Interesting how

The perfumes and

After shave lotions

Mingle and dance

With the notes

And warm applause

That sometimes breaks

Into wild wolf whistles,

There’s a simple

Realness to an evening

Packed tightly with

Strangers in a small

Coffee shop,

 Listening

To Freeman and Hill,

It’s like visiting

The sixties,

 Leonard, Lightfoot,

Joan and Buffy,

And as perspiration

And body aromas

Sneak past the perfumes

And after shaves,

You refrain from touching

The stranger next to you,

You remember the gal

Of Society’s Child

Who made it impossible

To forget seventeen,

And you slip into a dream

In a coffee shop bulging

With strangers,

Listening to
Freeman and Hill.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Another Revolution” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com/FreemanAndHill.html

7:29 PM March 24, 2012

 

Mumble

Posted by strangersandpoetry on

Mumble

 

It was getting late,

The words were there

Lining up between customers,

Pushing and shoving

Like political promises,

Something was forming

But who really knew what,

I remembered that some of

The best Meeleirrek moments

Emerged from this sort of

Noise and confusion,

Best to just mumble

Along and see where

The muse would

Take me.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Another Revolution” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com

7:06 PM March 22, 2012